Chapter 15
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
LEO
The whisky just doesn’t burn the way I need it to. Fuck this fancy stuff with its smoky-smooth drawl, I need something with enough bite to dull the ache, and this shit isn’t cutting it.
I scan the dismal array of half-empty bottles on the office bar cart.
Bingo. Tucked away in the corner is a bottle of vodka coated in a thick layer of dust. It’s more like a bottle of hooch, but I grab it anyhow, twist off the cap, and take a long swig, relishing the burn as it slides down my throat.
Papa would turn over in his grave if he saw me now, drinking this swill straight from the bottle, splayed out on the ugly beige couch shoved into this closet of an office.
The thought makes me smile. Good. He doesn’t deserve my allegiance. He doesn’t deserve anything from me, but a middle finger straight in the air.
To taste her again was pure magic. To bury my face in her beautiful pussy and have her writhe on me was nearly enough for me to die a happy man.
But it wasn’t just about the sex. Holding her, feeling her body relax and her breathing steady during the storm was an unexpected reward.
I hadn’t planned for what happened next, but I sure as shit didn’t avoid it when the opportunity presented itself.
Because I’m a weak man when it comes to her.
I grasp the bottle tightly in my hand and take another hearty slug, the raunchy burn exactly what I was looking for. Maybe if I drink enough it’ll help keep me from knocking down the door to her room and fucking her like the animal I am. Like the animal she makes me.
It took everything in me to drag my sorry ass out of her bed early this morning after spending half the night just staring at her sleeping.
Pizda. Who have I become? A man who is so desperate for a taste that I force her to wear my ring under the flimsiest of excuses.
A man who laid her over my knee and spanked her bottom red for allowing another man to touch her.
A man who had no issue with making her come face down in my lap after delivering her punishment.
All of my perfectly laid plans went to hell in one jealous moment. I had planned to set work aside and spend the day with her by the pool. Instead, I let anger get the best of me, and I paid for it—after she took her orgasm on my fingers, she stormed off the deck without another word.
My phone rings in my pocket. A welcome distraction from my raging thoughts. Seeing Daniil’s name on the screen, I pick up right away. “Chto ty uznal?” I ask, desperate to know if he has any new information.
My brother lets out a low whistle between his teeth. “Whoa. Are you into the sauce already, brat? Isn’t it a bit early for that?”
Shit. I only speak Russian when I’m well on my way to buzzed, but right now, I don’t feel the booze. Just numb, which was the point. “I’m fine,” I mutter, switching back to English, determined to keep my words from slurring.
He chuckles darkly. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about Alyona being trapped in a confined space with you.”
An irritated grunt bubbles up from my throat. “You don’t have to worry about her, she holds her own better than any vor I’ve known.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” Silence on the other end of the line. “But you’re not just any vor, and she’s not just any girl.”
“Thanks for the reminder, now I assume you called for a reason?” My eyes track up to the ceiling, and I ease back on the couch, a wave of disappointment settling over me.
Daniil snorts. “You sober enough to talk business?”
Maybe. “Yes.” I relinquish the bottle of vodka to the floor. An espresso and shower are what I really need, but I settle for a bottle of water from a side table. “What have you learned?”
"The man who was hired to abduct Alyona is named Alexander Luzkov, a Latvian national who moved to Moscow in his twenties. He was thrown in prison in the early 2000s for running low-level scams with the Kuznetsov Bratva.” That explains the stars on his shoulders and spider webs on his knees—tattoos you only earn from hard years in the Russian prison system.
“He was released from prison fifteen years ago, and that’s when his trail went cold.
He became a ghost, unaffiliated with any of the known bratva families.
No registered bank account or digital footprint.
He operated completely under the radar.”
“What do you mean? Dima couldn’t find anything on him?” I ask, my hands curling into fists. If our best hacker is coming up empty, it’s a bad sign.
“He’s still working on it but so far, nothing.
The guy’s identity has been wiped from the system.
I’ve met with all our connections, no one has any idea of who he could be, which only means one thing.
” My jaw tenses, a sick feeling spreading from my chest outward.
I know what Daniil is about to say, but I want to hear him say it anyhow.
“He’s protected. He’s working for the highest echelon of society—oligarchs, politicians, someone who has the means to exist outside of any system. ”
Gangsters are powerful in Russia, but they are no match for those that work for the state.
Power and money, often interchangeable, come to those with connections to the Kremlin.
A shiver of dread seeps into my veins. This is more serious than I imagined.
I’m haunted by the feeling that there’s a piece of the puzzle we’re missing. Something I’m not seeing.
“Daniil,” I bark into the phone, “give me a few hours. I need time to look into this.”
Because if someone important is after my Aly, they will have to get through me first.
Three hours later, I have gone down a steep, sticky rabbit hole chasing the identity of Alexander Luzkov.
We have some of the best hackers and computer nerds in our pocket, but they can’t always make the connections that I can.
Having grown up in the bratva, I understand the web that is criminal networks.
Between my hacking skills and knowledge of organized crime networks, I can find a needle in a haystack.
Daniil is right, after leaving prison fifteen years ago, Luzkov hasn’t been spotted in Russia.
So the question is, who was he in prison with?
Did he make a connection there that could have lured him out of the country?
Slowly, I’ve narrowed down my search to three main suspects: a Croatian arms dealer, an Albanian enforcer, and a Russian drug dealer who has since left the country and set up a mini empire in Hungary.
My Spidey sense tells me one of these men is the key to finding who Luzkov works for.
I exhale slowly and lean back in my chair. The screen before me flickers with activity, the data whizzing by in a blur as I run the information through an encryption program before sending it to Daniil and Dima.
My thoughts drift back to the encounter earlier today—Jack Martin. Something about the first mate doesn’t sit right. Is he just a creep or something more? Either way, I fire off an email to Dima, asking for a comprehensive background check on him. I want every dark secret from his past unearthed.
My thoughts are disrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” I call out.
A moment later, the door creaks open and Genevieve pokes her head in. “Sorry to interrupt.” She holds up the tray in her hands. “Since you’ve been holed up here all day, I figured you must be hungry for dinner.”
“Thank you, come in,” I gesture, shifting in my chair. “You can put the tray down on the side table over there.” She enters, stepping over the vodka bottle on the floor without a second look. Once the food is on the table, she straightens and asks, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Actually, there is.” I clear my throat. “Where is Alison now?”
“In the gym, I believe.”
“Good. I need you to deliver something to our room,” I say, holding up a package. My gift comes with no strings attached. I planned to give it to Aly regardless, but it can’t hurt to butter her up after what happened earlier.
Genevieve takes the package from my hand and promises to deliver it straightaway, just as my cell phone rings. With the door closed firmly behind her, I answer Daniil’s call. “Did you look at the information I sent?” I ask.
“Yes. That’s what I called about.” He releases a slow breath. “This only opens the door to more possibilities, not less. I just spoke to Andrei. He’s going to meet me in Moscow. None of us are safe until we get to the bottom of this.”
Relief fills me. Daniil’s more than capable, but I welcome the all-hands-on-deck approach.
“Spasiba, brat,” I say, a rare tremor in my voice. Not that he needs my thanks, but I want him to know this means something to me. “I wish I could be there with you.”
“No, you need to be looking after Aly, at least until we get ahold of Yulian.” There’s a strained pause at the other end of the line. With his voice pitched low, Daniil asks, “You gonna survive her?”
I tip my head in thought, it’s a question I don’t know the answer to.
She has me all turned around. The moment I entered her flat feeling like my chest would cave in with worry, I was lost to her.
Tasting her has only reawakened my addiction.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I really don’t know. ”
But I do know one thing. As long as we’re trapped on this boat together, I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give me. And when this is all said and done, I’ll let her go.
I’ve ruined her once, I won’t allow myself to do it again.